


Healing the Soul

by Squarepeg72



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Healers, Healing, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/pseuds/Squarepeg72
Summary: Pansy remembers a discussion about her chosen profession with a portrait as she prepares to start another day of her rotation on the Silent Ward of St. Mungo’s.
Kudos: 10
Collections: Half-Blood Prince Drabble Elimination Challenge





	Healing the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 2 of Half Bllod Prince 2020 in Draco's Den
> 
> Characters: Pansy Parkinson, Bellatrix Lastrange, Phineas Black  
> Potion: Skele-Gro

_“AAAHHHHHHHHH”_

Pansy looked at the door to her assigned ward and said a prayer. The voices that drifted from under the door to the sealed ward made her skin crawl. They called it the Silent Ward because it was anything but silent. She was not looking forward to her trip to this ward. This rotation of her apprenticeship was the most difficult so far. Treating those who had been deemed criminally insane was beyond difficult. But, even the insane injure themselves.

Pansy had not planned to deal with the insane when she decided she wanted to be a Healer. She had had her share of that when she lived at home. She had visions of assessing witches and wizards as they sat in her surgery, finding the potion or poultice that would heal them and make them whole again. The ideal was a far cry from the reality of this rotation.

She had wanted to be a Healer since she fell out of a tree when she was six. Her father had summoned the small woman with the large bag to the Hall, and she had made everything better. Pansy still didn’t like the taste of Skele-Gro, and the smell of freshly mown grass was not her favorite smell, but it was the trigger for her career.

Telling her friends she wanted to be a Healer after the war had gotten mixed reactions. Pansy had spent her eighth year researching the requirements and discipline of becoming a Healer. None of her research had prepared her for this part of her chosen profession.

Well, that is not one-hundred percent true. A former headmaster had tried. The portrait of Phineas Black had spent the better part of a month arguing with her about becoming a Healer and the toll it would take on her. She was beginning to wish she had listened a little closer to the portrait of Phineas Black.

“Young lady, there is more to being a Healer than what you see here. The training will make you see every part of the profession before you are allowed to choose a specialty.” The old Headmaster had warned her. “You will not just be treating those that walk into the front door of St. Mungos or the surgery down the road. You will have to deal with those who no longer know who or what they are.”

“Like Neville’s parents?” she had asked as she sat on the stool in front of the portrait she had been assigned for career counseling. “They are survivors. I can help be comfortable and find peace.”

“Yes, child, the Longbottoms are one type of patient.” Phineas paced in front of his chair. “Tragic and haunting, their injuries were caused by another, and they can never be who they once were. But, then, you must also treat the ones who cause such harm without remorse as well as the ones they have harmed.”

“But, those witches and wizards are taken to Azkaban.” Pansy gasped. “Why should we treat them after all the harm they have done? What comfort or healing could I bring to someone who has caused so much pain and damage?”

“Are they not worth your care and concern just because of what they have done? Do you think that Madam Pomfrey only hands out Skele-Gro and stomach potions? Warps an occasional sprain or dog bite?” Phineas continued to pace the confines of his frame. “There is more to healing a witch or wizard than dosing them with potions and splints. There is the influence of the mind and soul.”

“What do you mean, mind and soul?” Pansy started to bite on her thumbnail as she listened. “I know our minds can affect our mood, and our mood can affect how we feel physically. But our souls?”

“Did you meet my granddaughter, Merlin rest her soul?” Phineas sat down heavily in his chair. “Beautiful child but such a twisted soul. Bellatrix had so much potential, but her thirst for power and position led her to do unspeakable things. I grieved many lost in war, but she was difficult.”

“I never met her. I saw her in the castle that night.” Pansy shuttered at the memory. “She was laughing as she ran through the halls, throwing curses at everyone in her path. What could I have done for her?”

“I don’t know that you could have found the right combination of potions to mend her soul.” Phineas let his head drop into his hands. “There was a poison that began to seep into her soul as she listened to the people around her. Her time in Azkaban did not help, but the damage had already been done. Her choice to follow the Dark Lord drove the poison deeper. Many poisons have antidotes, but this particular poison affects more than the body.”

“How can you poison a person’s soul?” Pansy asked with a whisper. “I thought poison only affected the body. How do you deliver a poison that affects the soul?”

“Potions can poison the body, but words poison the soul.” Phineas raised his head and took a deep breath. “Remember that when you deal with those who have lost their way. If you are going to be a Healer, always remember what we have talked about today.”

Shaking her head to clear it, Pansy took a deep breath. “Remember what Phineas told you, Parkinson. Potions can poison the body, but words can poison the soul. Treat each of them like they were your own and try to find the poison. Never give up on finding the poison and getting rid of it, from the body and the soul.”


End file.
